The British Entailment
by Green Eyed Liberation
Summary: Why must everything always be perfect? Can't something in our 'beautyobsessed society' be average? Mundane? Even a little strange? This is a story of how someone's ordinary life turned into something extraordinary, and how she became a woman along the way


_Hello everybody, I have changed my pen name from roseeyeblonde to Green Eyed Liberation and my story idea for British Entailment. I thought I'd go for something more…mature. But there still is humor! I hope you guys like it!_

**Disclamer: Do you THINK I own anything from Pirates of the Caribbean? I didn't think so…oh look I'm psychic! …. I think….**

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The British Entailment

By: Green Eyed Liberation

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Who created the word 'perfect'? How is it probable that anything is, indeed, perfect?

**per·fect** (pûrfkt)  
_adj._

1. Lacking nothing essential to the whole; complete of its nature or kind.

2. Being without defect or blemish: _a perfect specimen._

3. Thoroughly skilled or talented in a certain field or area; proficient.

4. Completely suited for a particular purpose or situation: _She was the perfect actress for the part._

The list goes on and on from the dictionary that I got that from…

The rich and famous are considered perfect, but are they really? Do they have perfect lives free from the glam and the picture-taking? And let's not forget the scandals…which are, of course, created by the unglamorous, acne-covered, writers sitting in their small cubicles, trying to make celebrities seem fallible in a totally unreal fashion?

Sometimes I pity those poor celebrities, they are normal people just like you and me…but then again are they really? NORMAL? Which average worker earns $7 million dollars per case, or client, or just as a bonus? Nobody I know…

**nor·mal** (nôrml)  
_adj._

1. Conforming with, adhering to, or constituting a norm, standard, pattern, level, or type; typical:

_n._

1. Something normal; the standard: _scored close to the normal._

2. The usual or expected state, form, amount, or degree.

This time the definitions aren't as numerable.

As a 23 year-old girl, I consider myself normal and pretty average in looks, stirred in with little oddities. I guess some would say I'm pretty because I actually have natural blonde hair…figure me that Sherlock, and because of my height, which is ahem 5'11'' (which is somewhat unusual, but I'm proud of it so shut up). But my inner-self-consciousness always puts me down. I'm defiantly NOT flat stomached, I'm TOO curvy, my feet are WAY too big and narrow, I'm disproportionate, everyone considers me a dumb blonde because of my hair color including my boss, I eat too much, and I have green eyes for a blonde which one ex-boyfriend in college considered "unnatural". But what does he know about natural? He always shaved all hair off his body except the hair on the top of his head. Even down there and HIS LEGS. There's your queue to point and laugh at him. He was such an asshole.

I'm not a risk taker and have never been. I'm always shy and go with the safe route. That's how I ended up majoring in business and a minor in economics. It wasn't the first choice on my list but somehow it seemed like the most secure career at the time.

I always LOATHED my job which to me is the most boring job in the world,

An assistant for some big-shot business tycoon. Low on the totem-pole, eh?

It's a large company located in Bristol, England, and of course it pays me minimally and my boss always tries to make me feel as small and unimportant as possible. He constantly forgets my name and just loads tons of his work on me. Loving my life yet?

The location is odd because I'm actually from a small town in Pennsylvania, USA. Moving to England was probably the only risk I've ever taken, besides that time in second grade when I thought it would be cool to stick my scissors in the socket near my table. Let's just say that wasn't a good decision. And I still think the school is still paying the insurance bills for that for not having those protective plastic things over the outlets, and for my medical bills, of course.

Um, now back to the present.

I live in a small apartment on the west side of Bristol, which is not a bad neighborhood, but it's still a small apartment. It does the job. And my friends, well, they still love to party. Especially the new ones I made in England. WOW I don't even want to go out with them. Why would I anyways? There's too much drugs, sex, and alcohol out there. It's EVERYWHERE. On TV, magazines, movies, probably even hinted in children's books for all I know!

Ok, ok I know it's not everywhere. For example, sex is not happening in my bedroom. Haha. Look how sad I am. Now this time is scheduled for everyone to point and laugh at me.

But my friends are still are loads of fun besides all that. They make me laugh, cry, and just about everything in between. And like the typical 'friend-help-friend' situation, they always try to help me come out of my little shell, go out, and try to help me find "the PERFECT guy". And magically, I'm supposed to find one. But I got two words for you.

**Bull. Shit.**

Nobody ever finds the perfect guy, only in the movies with beautiful actors and actresses. Again back to my first point, NOTHING is perfect. Even though I love watching movies, I am smart enough to separate fact from fiction, and I love my factual reasoning.

But I do enjoy a little fantasy on the movies. Sometimes.

ONLY if there's an actual interesting plot. I hate those movies where boy meets girl, they fall for each other, there are obstacles between their love, and then finally they get together, get married, have little babies, and have a "happily ever after". What a load of crap that is.

Some how, I guess I wish my life was like that. Everything went my way, I'd have a great job which is in a field I love, I'd have a great boyfriend (and have a great sex life) with the possibilities of marriage. Everything would be perfect.

But I couldn't accept that word; it's one of the words that I despise with a passion. My skin crawls every time I hear it because it reminds me of how my life is boring, how it's imperfect.

That is, until something happened one day, and it opened my eyes to a whole different meaning of perfect.

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_So how do you guys like it so far? It's really my first story, so, review and tell me how you guys like it!_


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